Long Broken promises Poems
Long Broken promises Poems. Below are the most popular long Broken promises by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Broken promises poems by poem length and keyword.
My elementary school was a box full of broken crayons.
You know, the kind that no one likes to use because they fit inside your hands like a hug that lasts three seconds too long.
Me and my classmates wore
hand-me-down smiles.
They were too big for our faces. We figured that eventually we would somehow grow into the sound of our own laughter, put on our happiness like gloves and wear our skin as if our bodies were made by Louie Vuitton, just hoping to be more than tattered pages ripped from the torso of coloring books.
More than the aftermath of two runaway trains headed to the same direction. Our parents drove their affection without insurance, and we are just head on collisions with no coverage. We got shattered windshields for eyes, and tongues made out of safely glass held together by super glue. It’s no wonder we spoke broken English.
With an entire orchestra drowning inside our throats, veins like guitar strings, our voices cracked like the self esteem of single mothers who carried us in their wombs like Molotov cocktails, and prayed that we would somehow find a way to mature into land mines
exploding underneath the feet that have trampled them for too long. These women, they dream in a language only fully understood by the tiles of an abortion clinic on a busy afternoon.
They raised us on top of broken promises made by men with grape jelly in their spines who were too busy jamming to their own
two-cent mix tape that they chose over their priceless women.
We didn’t come with a screwdriver. There is no picture on our box to show you what we should look like when this all is over.
We were just put into this world with a note that read
“Some assembly required.”
We were built inside of a neighborhood that looked as though it was slowly loosing a fist fight to cancer and kemotherapy claimed all of it’s dreams.
You see at a young age I was told that no matter how much furniture you move with a Honda Civic, it’ll never be a pick up truck
but have you ever wanted to be more than what you were made for?
Was there ever moment in your life when all you wanted was to be more than the wounded options that circumstance has nailed to your shoulders?
People question why we even have the audacity to breathe. That’s why when we walk it looks as though we are apologizing for our lungs.
But we ate not sorry for living this loudly.
It’s the only way we know how.
I saw the news today
I'd like to know what the hell you're trying
I want to find away
to silence you, and stop all the dying
You think you're above the law
You'll send to die just as many as you want to
Damnedest thing I ever saw
the mess you've made doesn't even seem to daunt you
You spit in our eyes and say
I'm gonna hate you now
because you are more evil than I am
and I'm gonna hate you now
cause I hate your point of view
I'm gonna hate you now
cause daddy's so proud
and mamma's still crying
and I'm gonna hate you now
cause my God told me to
When will it ever end
You'd think you would have learned by now
and what about you my friend
could you please tell me how
How will we find our way
when the God you pray to is a fat cash cow
who'll stand up and say
This has got to end.
but you slap mommas face and say
I'm gonna kill you now
because you are more wicked than I am
and I'm gonna kill you now
cause I hate your point of view
I'm gonna kill you now
My daddy's so proud and momma keeps crying
and I'm gonna kill you now
cause my God told me to.
Manipulation games
and broken promises from long ago
You put out the Lady's' flame
You'll reap what you sew
The children have to pay
Old men, and old women too
they just get in the way
of the bombs I drop on you
I'm gonna hate you now
because you've always hated me
I'm gonna hate you now
For all the oil that I've bought
I'm gonna hate you now
Cause hate is all I've got
How will you return
all the lives that you have wasted
watch the babies burn
Say this will keep us free
I wish you'd drink the blood
I wish that I could make you taste it
You've never understood
and you refuse to see
You turn your back on God and say
I'm gonna kill you now
because you are more wicked than I am
and I'm gonna kill you now
cause I don't agree with you
I'm gonna kill you now
cause Daddy's so proud and Mama's still crying
and I'm gonna kill you now
cause killings what I do
When will it ever end
You'd think you would have learned by now
what about you my friend
could you please tell me why
why can't he see the sin
of worshiping that fat cash cow
just look at the mess we're in
You're killing for a lie
After all he has done and all the lies he
has told,
it is still his heavy hand she holds.
And if her soul would not ache
and if her heart would not break,
she would leave him their without a clue,
without a care, that is what she would do.
But their love, she feared, she could not
replace,
her heart a cold and empty space.
And a silent tear rolled down her face.
And as his rage and anger left his face
and shame and sorrow took their place,
he stood there crying at her door.
Telling her he loves and needs her more
and more,
he makes the same broken promises
he has made so many times before.
A tear rolls down her cheek as she opens
the door,
she holds him tight and tells him it will be
alright.
She helps him into bed,
he falls asleep as she gently strokes his
head.
Picking up the broken plates
she thinks of all the dreams they had,
a life of love and happiness and all that
might have been
now nothing more than a shattered
faraway dream.
She sits in her silence, deafened by her
screams.
As she lay down in bed that night
he pulled her close and held her tight,
she did not bother to put up a fight.
And a silent tear rolled down her cheek
as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
She heard the front door slam,
and in he stormed with his heavy hand.
Bearing rage and anger she had not seen
before
she ran to the bedroom and locked the
door.
As the door flew open she screamed with
fright,
please baby please not tonight.
He did not hear her cries and pleas',
and quickly they were replaced by
screams.
Picking herself up off the floor
she ran to the bathroom and slammed
the door.
He cries on the other side of the door,
I love you and need you more and more.
He makes the same broken promises
he has made so many times before.
A tear rolls down her cheek as she opens
the door,
she holds him tight and tells him it will be
alright.
She helps him into bed,
he falls asleep as she gently strokes his
head.
Picking up the broken plates a smile
comes across her face,
my soul it will not ache and my heart it
will not break.
Holding a jaggered piece of broken plate,
so softly she whispers, it is time to leave
this place.
And a silent tear rolls down her face.
In the twilight hum of broken cities,
where glass teeth bite the smog-choked sky,
I walked—a stranger to my own time—
past dreams rusted in neon haze.
"This is the kingdom we made,"
whispered the wind through hollow streets,
"not with love, but with longing unfulfilled."
---
I. The Circle of Shattered Masks
Faces gleamed in fractured mirrors—
perfect, painted, pixel-deep.
Beneath the glass:
eyes dull as drought,
lips sewn with threads of trend.
They dance to rhythms of curated lives,
each step a scroll,
each breath a borrowed dream.
Here walk the hollow, the desperate to be seen,
trapped between reflection and reality.
---
II. The Market of Broken Promises
Silver tongues shout from golden towers,
selling futures already stolen.
Coins drip with sweat and sorrow—
the cost of hope traded for hunger.
A merchant, crowned with digital thorns,
whispers: "Buy immortality. Cheap today."
But the ground beneath him crumbles
into oceans rising, hungering for land.
"All wealth returns to the dust,"
carved on collapsing walls.
---
III. The Garden of Artificial Eden
Steel roots twist from concrete soil;
trees bloom with screens instead of leaves.
A woman made of glass sits beneath them,
her fingers tapping prayers into code.
"We built paradise," she sighs,
"but forgot the soul."
Silicon flowers flicker,
their light too cold to warm.
---
IV. The Chamber of the Last Oracles
Silent prophets, blindfolded, sit in rows,
wired to endless streams of data.
Their lips part, but only static spills—
truth drowned in the noise of the network.
"Is this wisdom?" I asked.
But my guide traced a circle in the dust
where answers should have been.
---
V. The Hollow Throne
At the journey’s end—a throne of ash,
raised high on promises unkept.
No king, no queen—only a crown
resting on emptiness.
And the wind whispered again:
"This is how the reign ends,"
"Not with a cry of power, but with silence reclaimed."
---
Epilogue: Between Light and Shadow
So the world turns in quiet descent,
from gold to ash, from dream to dust.
For in this twilight of longing and loss,
the hollow inherit the earth:
Not with fire, not with flood—
but with the slow fading of light
and the soft sigh of things undone.
Filled with fury and rage,
So much bottled in emotions,
Feeling like an animal trapped in a cage,
Calm like the wind but swift and changeable like the seas,
Nobody knows what lies beneath,
The Oceans lie dormant waiting for a sign from the heavens,
To the outside world what is unknown remain a mystery,
For others who don't understand their windows of perception is only a theory,
The nature of law of cause and effect begins to resonate,
Creating immaculate vibrations and the shift of temperatures,
Causing atmospheric pressure.
Rotation of the earth, its high and lows, the air and increasing speed,
Its slow but fast and fierce motion moving as one,
this rhythmatic flow, cadence, and coordination is similar to a dance
routine creating a whirlwind of energy and movement captivating
audiences,
For every second it gets closer expressing its power with precision,
Only following instruction,
Finally making a decision to cause damage and destruction,
Leaving a path of hurt, pain, heartache from the past ,
Only broken promises that last,
Tired and draining with only one thought remaining,
Filled with fur and rage,
Now that's what I call entertaining
I put my lips to his cheek
Reminded me of winter time, not ice cold
Without warmth yes, but with texture
hard to the touch like a rubber glove on a rock
Thoughts will never leave me
Sad thing is this is the memory that stands out most
Not the little things like dinner or TV
But past conversations about death
Sitting on the front stoop at night conversing
He wanted to believe, yet as time drew near he recollected.
"When I was an altar boy..." and he went on.
And as we stared into the dark, star-filled sky, I was terrified of truths.
Philadelphia was never so quiet, so lonely, so alien.
I could tell he was doubting his own beliefs
Nearing death, as he knew he was, things became concrete.
The inevitable set in and so did regrets.
In that moment I told him how i felt, to reassure him of his beliefs.
It made a difference, re-establishing his faith, so to speak
Mine as well. All I could think of is how scared I would be
If I were He. I prayed.
For strength, and for him.
Out loud, to whoever wanted to listen...
I tried to revive him, you know, for minutes like hours
Hands cupped, pumping on chest
Got too amped, scared, my adrenaline submerged my pancreas.
Broke his rib cage as he had broken promises
I sat there and was lost for second time in my life
Left the room that had been his as a child
Went downstairs took my mind away for a minute
Cannabis didn’t help, I sat there alone
Waiting for the wagon to come and take my new old friend
Big city life, wagon was late, 3 hours sitting
With the carcass of “from which I came” upstairs
We had a moment, both all alone, both on different planes,
We always were
A huge part of me just vanished that day
My spontaneity, my innocence, my mirrored image
No more “life of the party”, I wanted to be alone
Lost, stranded, discarded and left alone
Left me when I was seven, met up again when I was twenty-two
Fifteen year gap between father and son
He could’ve done better, done right
He didn’t, so I did
No regrets; never regret, or regress
If I didn’t move on, I would be him
Stuck in the past
But I am not him, nothing like him.
Yet I am still here, still alone
Questioning as he did
Sitting on the front stoop
Contemplating the Inevitable.
things used to be ok at least ok to wana get by,
things have kept on changing, now i sit and cry.
i miss the way we got along, the good times and the bad,
now we are split apart, separate, lonely and sad.
We have been together all the way, separate us, no one could,
We had eachother, we got eachother, in a way no 1 understood.
No one knew except me and you, the confusion in our minds,
She screwed us up, we wernt having much luck, but we got along without her just
fine fine.
She told us things that were not true, to get the attention she craved,
Then she left us as if we meant nothing.. were we badly behaved?
As we grew we found out for ourselves the kind of person she had become,
And the way she was was not our fault, it was nothing we had done.
She was meant to protect us, she was ment to care,
Why didn’t she want us, why its not fair.
She wernt there to wipe our tears or give us a kiss goodnight,
Instead she would tell us bad things that wernt true, really gave us a fright.
As time went on I thought she would change, for her childrens sake,
But I was wrong, she didn’t care, her loving attitude was fake.
Even when we were settled down in a new home starting over fresh,
She didn’t like it , she didn’t want us happy, so she caused a big mess.
That’s all shes done throughout our lives, tried to ruin anything good we had,
We did nothing wrong, we were just kids, she had no right to make us sad.
But all this time I new we would be ok as long as we stuck together,
Live our lives not caring what she thought, wernt gona let her get to us never!
But then u went and did something that I never thought u would do,
Went back to the one person, who never once cared for you.
All those years she left you crying after telling you a lie,
All the broken promises and false hopes, so why? Tell me why?
Why did you go back to her, surely you new it would be a mistake,
I cant believe you left me, just another promises to break.
You were the one person I could rely on, you understood what I felt,
But then you changed and became like her just caring about yourself.
I not giving up on you, I cant, I never ever wana lose touch,
I just want the sister I no back cos I am missing you so much.
Form:
I'll find a remedy for my broken heart.
A round of applause, you've melt my heart to stone.
I couldn't make you feel my love, from the start.
I'll find someone like you, I'll search for a clone.
A round of applause, you've melt my heart to stone.
All I ask is don't come back with a hello.
I'll find someone like you, I'll search for a clone.
I'll keep chasing pavements to find that rainbow.
All I ask is don't come back with a hello.
One last goodbye to your sweetest devotion.
I'll keep chasing pavements to find that rainbow,
Set fire to the rain and show no emotion.
One last goodbye to your sweetest devotion.
No turning tables, stop rolling in the deep.
Set fire to the rain and show no emotion,
its water under the bridge, I shall not weep.
No turning tables, stop rolling in the deep.
Rumour has it, there's a new name on your tongue.
Its water under the bridge, I shall not weep.
Forget broken promises, from when we were young.
Rumour has it, there's a new name on your tongue.
I couldn't make you feel my love, from the start.
Forget broken promises, from when we were young.
I'll find a remedy for my broken heart.
The Silent One
17 November 2017
Pantoum rhyme poem with 11 syllables per line.
The pantoum poem consists of 16 Adele song titles. Titles are below.
The pantoum consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB in which the second and fourth lines of a quatrain recur as the first and third lines in the succeeding quatrain; each quatrain introduces a new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD. The first line of the series recurs as the last line of the closing quatrain, and third line of the poem recurs as the second line of the closing quatrain, rhyming ZAZA
Remedy
Melt my heart to stone
Someone like you
All I ask
Hello
Chasing pavements
don't you remember
I can't make you love me
Make you feel my love
Sweetest devotion
Set fire to the rain
Turning tables
Rolling in the deep
Water under the bridge
Rumour has itl
When we were young
Nascent pristine hopes sprout stealthily
from the submerged swamps of anxieties,
parched earth frets over consequences
to fuel naive hopes into realities of void
burdened with the clutter of aged promises,
fervent wind denies hope to flourish
effervescence of faith sustains the sapling.
I shiver at my failed encounters,
lost desires from broken promises;
you radiate truth with a divine Aurora
calming my perturbed oceans of scars,
soothing whispers dissolving delusions.
Your promise of a love that lasts forever
blooms with my infant hope born yet again
in my ancient orchard of disappointments,
perhaps hope is an everlasting promise too.
When my hallucinations overtake my existence
you bridge my fantasies with visible world
and fuse my bliss with your intuition.
Unfulfilled promises, superfluous allegations
in a world where none volunteers to be a promise.
You erase my hazy visions of torn pages
and color them with your dripping love.
Two parallel waves in unison moving forth
rising with crests and falling with troughs
merging in the tranquility of a shore afar
next to the ocean enchanted by seagulls
guiding my lost spirit in storms with your light.
My hopes have grown into a lush fir tree
swaying with your glistening smiles.
You become my universe peeking into imaginations
of my stories, melodies, musings at nights;
and when I return to reality you wait
with my sublime corner by your side,
my book of musings flourishes by your essence.
Perhaps humans should keep their promises,
I believe theirs too get fulfilled someday.
I smile every time the fir tree drenches me
dissolving the fragrance of musk-soaked love
in raindrops and snowflakes of your promise--
To be the love that retains the existence of
everlasting hope in this world-- your promise..
May 28, 2020
The Promise Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Winner: First Place
BRIAN'S CHOICE Z,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Winner: Honorable Mention
Ten in the night. The porch light flickers on, like a lighthouse in rural darkness. Healing begins with a door left open. An old lady at 90 sets the kettle to boil, chamomile steeping in amber pools of hope. The wooden sign leans against her window: Tea & Talk. Always Open to Anyone.
Seven nights of solitude. Cricket songs and empty chairs. Sometimes changing the world doesn't look like a movement. A cat winds between her ankles, purring questions into the cold night.
After a week, at ten in the night, footsteps are heard. A girl weeping, arms wrapped tight as winter coats wrapped around her broken dreams arrives. "Is this... real?” Someone to listen and offering Tea. The only currency that matters is presence. The old lady pours hot tea, with a smile of trust, warmth flowing from her heart to build hope and confidence, as she consoles the girl.
Desperate people finding solace come, one after another, now fifty. The space breathes with hopes, whispers confessions, sorrows, laughter and hope. Words are seeds….some fall on stone, others on fertile hearts. Truckers passing by with calloused hands cradle delicate cups. Widowers unfold photograph albums like prayer books. Teenagers flee late-night arguments, finding sanctuary in the old lady’s silent listening.
December blizzard is cold. Power lines snap like broken promises never to return. Shovels scrape against snow, lanterns bob through darkness. They won't let the place close. Community is not built….it is discovered. Solar lights on, generator humming, thermoses steaming. The warmest place in town glows with human constellation.
Spring arrives with its colourful glamour beautifully. Conversations spilling like wildflowers. Love multiplies when divided. Notes accumulate on old lady’s refrigerator, testimonies to the healing power of witnessed pain. A veteran sleeps through the night. A baby giggles for the first time. Someone chooses life over despair.
The movement spreads without manifesto or mission statement. Revolution sometimes whispers.
The heart's true home is where it dares to break open for all.
Ten PM chimes by Old lady,
warm light spills through winter dark,
tea steeps, door stays wide